Of the Users
by The Hark-ness monster
Summary: Sam returns to the grid, and is pleased to find someone waiting for him...just the program he was hoping to see. The posibilities of the grid, the digital frontier, are endless.
1. 1 Watching, Waiting

**5 chapters :) hope you like it! At the moment I am calling this "complete" though I may add one more chapter at the end...**

**...also, my sister saw this fic and was like "Sam/Tron? That's not a ship!" Needless to say I simply shook my head at her. Anyway, I appreciate support from my fellow Tron/Sam shippers! :) Apparently there aren't that many of us out there... :p**

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><p><span>Of the Users<span>

Tron Legacy

A Tron/Sam fan fiction

1- Watching, Waiting

I stand on the rocks and wait. Wait for what seems like forever, but it doesn't matter. I have nothing else to do, no commands left in my programming now that both the Maker and Clu are gone. I sit patiently…thought I'm not entirely sure what patience is. _A human concept, _Clu had told me when my actions were still subject to his command. Then I suppose I do not have true patience at all. I am only a program. I could never fully understand the users. All I really know about the users is that I am here to obey them. Whatever they need, whatever they ask, I am to give it to them. And, _protect the grid, protect the grid, protect the grid_. But I'm still waiting for the user. There is only one I know who is still out there. He is somewhere in that unknown world, beyond the star that never shines anymore, far past the sea of simulation that I stand watching now.

_I fight for the users,_ I had said, but now there are no users to fight for. What other choice do I have but to wait?

_He'll be coming back, _I force myself to believe.

Cycles passing, passing. My feet do not move. No one has commanded them to. So here I stand.

Suddenly, finally, a burst of energy lights up the grid. The star has reignited. I smile, staring at the glow. _The User._

A process, a problem, flashes through my circuits, put simply as what the humans call a question. How will he cross the sea? But then I see a bridge slowly constructing itself towards me and the process is solved and falls into oblivion. _Of course. He is a user._

It takes a good amount of time before I finally see him, walking, casually as ever, towards me. My circuits light up, flicker and buzz. A purr resonates through my body as my system prepares to take commands…or is it something else that draws this reaction?

A smile is painted across his face and a spark lights up his eyes. I recognize that the user is pleased. _Why?_ I am puzzled by the user's behavior once again.

His clothing consists of a jacket made of dark material, not unlike that which makes up my suit. Beneath is a solid, dark grey layer. His pants are something my programming tells me are called jeans. He has no visible circuits. This outfit must be his default settings.

He steps up to me and stops no more than two feet away.

"Tron," he says in a fluid voice, behind that electrifying smile.

My audible buzz continues and I cock my head to the side, a habit I picked up from Rinzler. "Welcome back…user." My voice is more like a growl, distorted by the helmet, which I now realize I have been wearing for over a thousand cycles.

"Good to see you're still here," he says.

"I am always here to serve the users," is my response.

"I was afraid you hadn't survived, so I had to come check on the grid."

"Of course, user." It occurs to me that this is the most I've spoken in a thousand cycles. My programming to speak feels almost foreign now.

His smile brightens and he says, "Call me Sam."

I simply nod, still uncomfortable with my speech program. He walks off past me. "Come on," he says, and tosses me a baton. As we head towards the grid I think to myself; _Thank the maker. The user's returned._

We stop at a corner beneath a glowing street lamp, under which a few programs pass, minding their own business. Tron city seems to be doing just fine.

Sam derezzes his light cycle and I, behind him, do the same. Stepping out onto the illuminated, sleek black sidewalk, he leans against the lamp post and watches me approach. I stop in front of him and wait for him to speak.

"So the city seems to be in pretty good shape, huh?" He says.

"It does indeed."

"Any problems you've noticed since Clu and my dad…" he pauses. "Have been gone."

"To be honest, user, I know only as much as you do. I haven't set foot in the city since there has been no one to command me."

He only stares at me with a jokingly displeased smile.

"What?" I finally say, cocking my head in confusion. I thought my response was perfectly adequate.

"I told you to call me Sam." His teeth flash a smile.

I reply, "Yes, of course." I purr at the sound of his name. "…Sam."

There is a break in our conversation and he looks around; at a tall building, down the street, back at me. He could not look less interested in Tron city. I thought he had said that he came to check on the grid? To me that implied he was actually going to look around…or at least show a minimum interest. This leads me to believe he came here for some unstated reason.

Arms folded across his chest, he says; "So is my dad's place still around?"

A strange and sudden question, but I am not programmed to judge, I am programmed to answer.

"The house on the outlands?"

"Yeah," he nods once.

"I cannot compute why it wouldn't be."

He smiles, only with more hidden intentions. "Well then let's go." He steps back towards the street.

"Our bikes," I point out. "They won't function off grid."

"Tron," he says, turning back to me with a smirk on his face. "I'm a user." I don't know why but this causes me to smile behind the glossy black of my helmet. I follow him.

We ride the cycles to the edge of the grid.


	2. 2 Sparks

Of the Users

Tron Legacy

A Tron/Sam fan fiction

2- Sparks

We make it across the outlands by light jet. I have a feeling they are Sam's favorite mode of digital transport. It doesn't take long before I see the long window of the house stretched across the dark cliff face like a dimly glowing canvas.

We head up the lift to the main level of the house in silence, the air filled only with my incessant purring. I worry that it might bother him, but if it does he doesn't say so. I try to keep it down.

I look over at him and see that his tweak of a smile is gone. He looks deep in thought, solemn. He sighs when the lift comes to a stop. I wait for him to move though it takes a while for him to do so. Then, confidently and decisively, he steps onto the light-tiles and the once dark room flickers to life.

For a long while he doesn't say anything, just walks slowly and silently, I follow close behind. The soles of our boots tap on the floor.

He watches the dark sky, the rough landscape of the outlands as it rolls away from us beyond the overlook of the house. Bright flashes of electricity break the clouds into shards every once in a while and the simulated sky illuminates like the far-off Tron city.

"It's so quiet here…and lifeless," he finally says with a hint of gloom. A sigh struggles past his lips. I only remember ever being in this house once, and it was not very different than this. Like he said…quiet, lifeless. Though this was how I remembered the house, it must feel very strange to him. I'm sure his memories are unlike mine.

"Well, it just seems wrong to leave all this sitting here empty." He turns to me and, with delight, I see that some of the light has returned to his eyes. "I guess this will just have to be my grid vacation home." The slight humor in the statement shows on his face in the form of his regular, charming smile. I hope this means he will be coming here often. Part of me wishes he would just stay forever but I know that's not practical. I terminate that thought immediately.

He looks around a bit then slowly gravitates towards the long white dinner table. Pulling out a chair, he sits, sighs and folds his arms across the table, laying his head on top of them. I walk to the opposite end, my feet clacking all the way, and sit down.

I wonder what he is thinking. He says nothing. His eyes tell me sadness, his body, fatigue. He looks out into the empty space of the outlands and remembers what he has lost. I can see the sadness in his eyes and I feel guilty that I can do nothing to comfort him. The complexities of human relationships and the treatment required for those who have suffered broken ones, are far beyond me. But then he abandons those dismal thoughts and turns to look at what he has.

Blue eyes scan over me once and his smile returns. I am glad that I at least seem to be a source of happiness for the user. This time, I don't wait long for him to speak.

"So does that helmet even come off?" He catches me off guard with such a frivolous question but it was, in a strange way, refreshing. Something tells me he is always like this, carefree and never dwelling on the past. The dark air in the room dissipates.

"It does," I answer. "But it hasn't in a thousand cycles." I spoke with some bashfulness, slightly embarrassed over the matter.

He leans back in the chair casually and says, "Well it's about time then don't you think?"

It takes a moment for my system to process his question.

_I suppose it is._ The black sheen slides away from my face and retracts into nothingness.

He looks at me from across the table for a long while, taking in every feature. Then he chuckles, his eyes bright. "Do you even remember what you look like?"

I almost laugh back. It feels good to be able to smile again.

"Of course. Programs have a fixed memory, Mr. Flynn." I pause, then add, "However, my appearance has changed from my original formatting."

"Oh really, how so?"

"I am now a combination of both the Rinzler and Tron programs. I didn't reboot as Tron after my fall into the sea. The Rinzler program had already corrupted my original settings. I was, however, able to recover most of my old Tron files and apply them to the Rinzler program."

"Ahh." He nods. "That would explain the uh…purring."

I blink twice. I now realize that the sound has stopped. It was sporadic, uncontrollable for the most part_. _"Yes," I say and blush slightly, a little self-conscious of the uncontrollable noise. I change the subject. "Previously, as the complete Tron program, my appearance would be fairly similar to that of my user."

Sam raises and eyebrow. "Alan?" Then he laughs. I do not believe I made a joke.

"Well then I'm glad you're not full on Tron. It would be way beyond weird having a program version of Alan walking around in here with me."

I hesitate briefly before I speak. "So my appearance pleases you, Sam?"

A grin marks his face. "Well that's a strange way of putting it…but I suppose it does."

I return the smile.

My hair is dark, a feature of Rinzler's, and slightly longer than Sam's. The eyes looking out of my head are stone grey, dulled from their original lightning blue. My lips are thin, my nose, round.

There is silence between us again before I point out, "You look tired." I had observed his half-lidded eyes lazily glancing around the room.

"Yeah," and just then he yawns. "I suppose I should get some rest." Standing up, he walks in the direction of the hall to my left. "Quorra will reopen the portal in the morning."

Before he disappears down the dim corridor, I stand and accompany him. My helmet slides back into place, seals with a clack and my purring resumes. Without it I still feel uncomfortable, awkward and exposed.

My curiosity for the human function of sleep leaves me with a desire to follow him, so I do. At first I thought he might dismiss me, but he does not and lets me be his shadow all the way into the room.

Cautiously, I step through the door, not wanting to offend him in any way, and the door gently falls shut. My purr is the only sound that fills the room as we simultaneously observe each other. He eyes me with a smile. I watch as he removes his jacket and shoes before climbing into bed. _Why is the removal of these things necessary? _I ponder, but I don't ask.

The lights slowly dim, leaving only the glow of my circuits to give off a dull blue light. Expectantly, I watch in anticipation as he shifts and struggles with the sheets a little. Finally he settles. It is quiet again.

Moments pass and before long I fear that I have missed his transition into sleep. But my anxiousness is cured when he raises himself onto one elbow and speaks. "Uhh…Tron?"

"Yes," I reply obediently.

"Are you gonna just stand there all night?" I can just see his face in the low light. It is fixed in an amused but puzzled look.

"Not if it bothers you." Is my response. "Though I would have liked to observe the human process of sleep. Any aspect of the human function fascinates me, and it is rare, as you know, to have contact with a user." He laughs at my over-explaination, or perhaps at my intrest in something he finds so mundane.

"Well I don't mind…just don't do it like that," he says. I am confused until he summons me with his hand and says; "Come here."

I do as I am ordered. Stepping up to the bed slowly, it takes me a while to compute that he wants me on the bed _with _him. I come to this conclusion by the expectant and pleading look in his eyes.

Reluctantly, I sit down and swing my feet over to lie beside him. My helmeted head finds its way to the pillow and Sam shifts closer. The sweetest of eyes stare down at me and I purr all over…not just from my voice generator.

He leans in and whispers to me. "I must admit this can be rather boring," he confesses.

I don't say anything.

I wonder if my helmet makes him uncomfortable when he glances at me and sighs, returning to lying flat on his back.

He shifts, then silence. In an inexplicable change of heart, I find myself wishing with every circuit that Sam would not sleep and instead that he would turn to me again and say something. He could say anything really; I don't care, as long as he says it in that perfect, deep, soothing voice.

I scan him up and down for signs of sleep. Nothing yet. His eyelids still catch some of the light as they move occasionally when he blinks. After a long while of nothing to be heard but my disruptive purr, his voice cuts through the dark.

"Tron…" he says, hesitantly.

"Yes," I answer, perhaps too eagerly. My eyes, behind the surface of my helmet, catch his for a moment as he turns to face me.

"I'd like to show you something else we humans do."

I cannot begin to guess what he means. As I've said before, I know little about the habits of humans. "Alright," I agree.

"But you have to take this off first." His knuckle taps on the face of my helmet and it echoes with a tink tink tink in my ears.

I don't argue and the helmet slides back from my face. Expectantly, my eyes stay fixed on his, waiting. I still don't know what I am waiting for.

Then he says to me in the darkness, "Just stay still," and I feel his hand on the side of my face, holding me there. Before I have a moment to process the situation, his shadow descends on me and lips press against mine.

I do as I was commanded and don't move an inch. I don't know what else _to_ do, but I can't ignore the electric tingling in my lips so long as they have contact with his. As soon as I think he is going to release me, he returns, gently pushing against me. A spark leaps from his skin to mine when his hand presses against my side and pulls me closer to him.

Finally something clicks. A missing variable snaps into place in some long lost system deep within my programming. My eyes fall closed, I wrap a hand around the back of his neck. I kiss him back.

He is surprised, but it is a good surprise. He withdraws with a slanted smile of perfect white teeth that I can see in the dim light. He is waiting for my reaction but all I can do is think about the sensation of electricity jumping from his skin to my circuits. It takes a lot to simply keep myself from forcefully pulling him back down.

When I am able to pull my thoughts together, I manage to say; "It must be good to be human."

His eyes sparkle in the glow of my circuits. I can just see their faded color and they soften as he replies simply; "It is."

He settles down in the sheets after that and pulls me closer with an arm draped over my shoulder. I lean into the natural curves of his body. I watch the shadow of his face and chest as his breathing slows. A content smile turns his lips until every muscle in his body relaxes in what I could only guess was the transition into sleep. I've observed that without the instant speed of electricity controlling them, human functions are generally slower than those of programs.

For an unrecorded amount of time, I watch him and observe. Many would find watching a user sleep to be excruciatingly boring, but I, especially after our exchange of sparks, find it particularly interesting.

Every aspect, every action of the users, _this _user in particular, fascinates me to no end. I want to learn everything that I can about him.

Placing a hand slowly on his chest, I press my body against his. Then, content with our closeness, I switch into my program's sleep mode and "fall asleep" much faster than Sam had.


	3. 3 Reasons

Of the Users

Tron Legacy

A Tron/Sam fan fiction

3- Reasons

Sam turns, rolls over onto his side and leaves me cold without his embrace. My programming snaps back to full operational.

My eyes fall on him and watch. His breathing is deep and even and although I cannot see his face I know he is still asleep. In this moment I want nothing more than to curl up close to him and press myself into the warmth of his body but I know I should leave him to rest.

Slowly I managed to lift myself off of the bed without causing too much of a stir. Sam doesn't move. Quietly I slip out the door and down the hall.

Far past the outlands, Tron city glows magnificently. For a brief moment, a pang of what humans would call guilt rises in my system. I should be protecting the city. Doing something, anything in my power to fulfill my original commands. But I just don't know what that something is yet. It is clear that my programming has been abused beyond repair.

Then I remember that this is precisely the reason why I am here. To be with the user, to protect the _user, _not the city. The guilt fades away and I think of Sam sleeping peacefully in the next room. An insuppressible smile comes to my lips.

I step out onto the overlook hanging over the face of the cliff and sit down beside the pool of glittering light. Pure energy glows and sparkles on the surface, bathing the entire dark structure in soothing blue; the color of the city, of lighting, the color of the star that brings the users to us, the color of my circuits…his circuits. I sigh and relax, waiting for him to wake.

I hear the tap-tap-tap of his boots on the floor behind me. He pauses for a moment before deciding to approach. He doesn't say anything as if he anticipates the question I have to ask him. After he sits quietly beside me I take his silent invitation to ask; "You didn't come back to check on the city, did you?"

He looks at me but I continue to stare into the violent sea of clouds and light.

A glimmer of a smile comes to his face. "No, Tron. You caught me." My own small grin of pride begins to form. "How did you figure it out?" he asks.

"You are easy to read, Sam." This time I turn to him to break the unfortunate news. "Despite all your human complexities that I struggle to comprehend, masking your thoughts is not something you are terribly good at."

He chuckles in agreement. "I'm beginning to think that's how all humans are. Or how they seem to programs anyway. You're all logic while we're all emotion. Those two things generally don't understand each other very well."

He's right of course. I have no idea what real emotion is. Nonetheless, I move on to what I really want to know.

"So why did you come back?"

He pauses for a long while then begins his story with a gentle sigh.

"When I was little my dad would come home after a long day of work at the grid and he would tell me stories of this place. About you, Tron." He looks at me with something deep in his eyes. Maybe it was that emotion he had mentioned before. I stare back in wonder and then he continues. "I dreamed of coming here my whole childhood. It filled every corner of my little-boy imagination. I couldn't just leave all this. My father's legacy…all the endless possibilities. And you. You were the superhero of my father's stories. You were _my_ superhero. No one else knew about you so it was…personal. You weren't just Spiderman or Batman, all over pop-culture. You were real, something I knew was true because my own father told me so. And after he was gone…you were what I held onto. Those stories of the grid were all I had left.

"I kept you to myself and no one else could have you. You weren't a commercial deal, tossed around for money and popularity. You were Tron.

"Knowing you were still in here and that I never even met the _real_ you I had to come back. The superhero never dies, Tron." His eyes are filled with that sweet emotion, pure, I can tell. But I know I can never understand. Programs can't comprehend depth, only linear systems. But nonetheless I feel a tug, a pull. I am drawn to him and him to me.

"After I first came here, after I left, I knew there was so much more here. So much I hadn't seen. And I was right." He looks at me again, this time with a smile. Small but filled with honesty.

I turn away from him, setting my eyes once more on the glowing city. But I'm not _looking_ at the city, instead I am running a query through my system. My programming reviews it so many times it heats up and burns.

"Am I what you expected?"

He looks at me, confused and almost surprised. I do nothing but wait for the answer. He had said that I was a "superhero." I'm not entirely sure that means but I know it places incredible expectations on me. It would break my virtual heart to know that I let him down.

"No," he answers. No…he said no. I have failed the user…but before I can apologize for my unacceptable shortcomings he adds, "No, Tron, you are much more than I had ever imagined as a child. You're better than what I'd ever hoped for."

Relief hits me. Relief and something else. I cannot help but smile. We stare at each other until I can't take that precious look in his eyes any longer. I turn away for a second, flustered, caught in the moment perhaps. But he looks away too and when I glance back that content smile, always present on his face is still there, just barely visible.

I rest my hand on his which is casually placed in the space between us.

"You're everything I could ever ask for in a user." I realize such a statement from a program probably didn't mean much but I said it anyway. It was true. I was programmed to speak only the truth to the users.

He faces me with the slightest tinge of pink on his cheeks and a laughing smile of pure white teeth. When our glowing eyes meet he leans in closer but I immediately stop him. "Sam." He retreats slightly and a painful doubt creeps across his face. "I don't know what this is," I confess, referring to the tangible bond I had described before. "But…you are my user, and I am just a program at your disposal. I feel like without you I am nothing. Useless." For a second I fear that I am not making myself clear. "Do users ever feel this way?" I thought it was a foolish thing to ask but to my surprise he looks at me as if he knows exactly what I am talking about. He smiles and nods.

"Yes," he says. "Trust me. I, and most other humans, know exactly what you mean."

The look in his eyes sends sparks across my skin, not dissimilar to those I had felt last night.

We just gaze at each other, unsure of what else to do. It seems like we stay there a long while but it's still not long enough. We retreat into our own thoughts through the color of the other's eyes.

Instantly, our moment is disrupted by the explosion of light on the horizon. Our gaze is broken and we both turn to watch the grid light up. We both know, and accept with some regret, what it means.

"I think that's for you," I say, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," he says in reply, sounding defeated. Reluctantly he stands and with him he takes my hand, pulling me up towards him. "Come on."

I stand too and we walk out of the house leaving it dark and cold as it had been before. But now the house meant something completely new for both of us.

* * *

><p>Back on the cliffs by the sea of simulation, we stand before the bridge to the star. He hasn't left yet but I am already anxious for his return.<p>

"This won't be the last time I see you," he says quietly, almost a whisper.

"When will you come back?" I ask and instantly wince at how pathetic it sounded.

"It won't be long," he assures me and leaves after pressing his lips to my cheek in an innocent kiss. "Bye," he says and drops my hand. As he begins the trek across the bridge he is gone and I am already waiting for him to come back.

Watching him go, I remember what it was that had been bothering me the whole way here. Something else I was meaning to ask him but when he disappears into the bright light I can't help but smile at the irony. I still don't have commands for what I am to do while he is gone. But it's ok. It doesn't really matter. I am content to simply wait for the user.


	4. 4 A Night Out

Of the Users

Tron Legacy

A Tron/Sam fan fiction

4- A Night Out

He came back several times to the grid. Those visits were similar to his first. The house on the outlands became our retreat, where we went to stay while he was here, with me. Sometimes he would stay for days at a time.

He'd taken to calling me babe (a human pet name), Rinz (a shortened version of my old program name), and kitty (in reference to my obnoxious purring). I was sure it annoyed him though he insisted that it didn't. He even told me it was cute sometimes. Apparently I purr constantly when in sleep-mode. He told me he loved it. Even though he didn't like cats he said he liked me so it was ok. It made me smile when he told me this.

"There's my kitty," he says walking up to me where he sees me waiting. "Right where I left you."

"And right where I will always be to greet you, Sam." He grabs me by the waist and pulls me in.

I smile with contentment beneath my sleek black helmet. He places a kiss on the side of the dark glossy dome, not bothering to ask me to remove it. My purring continues and seems more cheerful than usual, as it always does when he's around.

"I apologize for having to inform you, but you may find that different attire would be more appropriate for where we're going," I say through a smile and my helmet as I grab his hand.

"And where would that be?" We begin walking in the direction of the grid and he pulls a baton seemingly out of nowhere.

"Well, I was thinking, we have the whole city at our disposal. Why don't we use it?"

He gives me that sly grin like he's plotting something and I love it.

"Alright," he says. "Lead the way…if you can."

He rezzes a light jet and takes off immediately. I start off not far behind him. We race across the outlands in a furious storm of light and laughter.

I make it there first but I think he let me win.

* * *

><p>The club is deep in the city but it is worth it. Besides, the shady inner-city programs won't be any problem for us. We are Sam and Tron, the ultimate kick-ass team. No one can mess with us.<p>

As we arrive I notice that Sam is no longer wearing the jeans and leather jacket but has now donned a more program-like black suit laced with wide, winding, blue circuits. It's quite an improvement if I do say so myself. I smile slyly.

"Now that's more like it," I say after we hop off our cycles and my helmet slides back.

The lift takes us to the third floor, the highest and most exclusive lounge of the club. It's good to be Tron, formerly known as Rinzler. Everyone knew, respected and even feared Rinzler, and now that I'm Tron, I am able to reinvent myself…but I still have my connections.

We enter and nearly all eyes are on us but I know they aren't looking at me, they are wondering who it is that I am with. I was a fairly regular face here, but Sam wasn't and any new guest at _this_ club was a big deal.

The bar tender waves to me. "Hey, Rinzler," he yells over the noise.

I start walking in his direction, Sam following close behind. As we walk across the floor the eyes that were once on us return to whatever had previously occupied them. However, I also note that several programs have flocked to the bar, very clearly where I and the dazzlingly attractive new "program" were headed.

I lean up against the bar but we don't bother to sit.

"So, Rinzler," Amadeus, the bar tender asks, "Who's your new friend? I was beginning to think you were a loner. You always came here by yourself. I never knew you actually had friends." He explodes with laughter as he always does when he thinks he made a joke. He's never _actually_ funny, he just talks a lot.

I know that when I introduce Sam I'm going to have to lie. I figure it is best not to alert the entire club that there is a user in their midst. I can't imagine the kind of uproar that would cause. "This is Ray. He's a security program."

Sam looks at me for a brief moment, catches on and introduces himself with a big, bright smile. "Hi," he says and shakes Amadeus' hand.

"Well it's a pleasure to meet you, Ray. Rinzler and Ray. A mighty nice soundin' team. I'm Amadeus. It's good to see someone's keeping this reject company," he leans close to him and pretends I can't hear while jabbing a joking thumb in my direction. "I always tried to introduce him to someone but he's so shy I thought he'd never make his own friends." His deep, bellowing laughter erupts once more, and thought his banter isn't particularly amusing, his laugh is. Sam and I can't help but offer a chuckle. That's probably why he thinks he's so hilarious. No one ever laughed at his jokes but they were actually laughing at _him_. "Well if there's anything I can get you guys it's on me…but just this once." He winks.

"Thanks," I say. He nods and returns to tending to the patrons who had not-so-subtly gathered at the bar.

Sam and I turn from the bar and face the rest of the club. Programs, filled with energy from the pulsing beat and brilliant lights await us on the dance floor in a raging mass of heat and motion.

I'd never danced here before due to my previous status of dreadfully alone, but now with Sam here it only seems appropriate. I give him that "you wanna?" look but I think he's one step ahead of me.

"Come on." He nods in the direction of the crowd. He grabs my hand and leads me toward the shifting swarm of programs.

With the beat loud in our ears and sending energy through our electric veins we move with the crowd. Back, forth, moving like an ocean of ceaseless energy. He hands lay across my lower back and pulls my body against his holding us close together as we move. His eyes and the motion of his hands on my back lets me know that he is thinking "you are mine". I smile. I like the sound of that. My own arms fall over his shoulders and hands occasionally brush the skin on the back of his neck.

"Why did you tell the bar tender, Amadeus or whatever, that I was a security program? I understand the fake name but why'd you pick security program?"

"Well I couldn't tell him you're a user," I explain. "I'm not sure we would want to know how the programs would react to a new user on the grid. I think it would be best to just keep your real identity secret for now. I am supposed to protect you after all," I told him. I also like being the only one who really _knows_ the user and I want to keep it that way, but I don't tell him that. "And everyone knows that security programs are the most attractive, so I thought it was appropriate." I smile at my self-glorification. I feel his hands against me harder.

"Well judging by the only security program I know it must be true." A spark in his eyes is visible under the dim light.

The music plays on. We watch each other in the constantly shifting shadow and light in the sea of programs. I don't know how long we dance but over time I found myself with my back against him and my hands holding his against my hips.

I feel him lean down close to my ear and laugh. "Back in the user world almost anywhere you go we'd be getting mad stares right now." I hardly know what he means. This is completely normal and acceptable club behavior.

"Why?" I ask.

"Well, 'cuz humans tend to think that two men aren't compatible. Dancing like this would generally be regarded as awkward for most people in most situations."

"Well, why?" I say, confused. "Two male programs are completely compatible, the same with two female programs."

"I think that compatibility for humans is a bit more complicated than it is for programs."

I look around. We're definitely not the only same-gender program couples on the floor, though I understand completely when he says it's complicated. I've learned that when he says it's complicated that I should stop asking questions because beyond that I would not understand.

Despite what he'd said about _not_ being stared at, that isn't entirely true. Occasionally, a lonely looking program will glance our way, looking at him with flirtatious eyes. I am certain. Sometimes it will be entire groups of giggly females. It's starting to bother me. It doesn't sit well with my programming. Protect the user. He is _mine._

"I need to go grab a drink," I tell Sam. He releases me without complaining and I slip out of the crowd.

Once at the bar I slump into a seat and Amadeus immediately gravitates towards me.

"What's matter, pal? Where's your friend? Seemed like you two were inseparable."

"In there," I say, waving an unenthusiastic hand at the crowd. I don't even try to seem cheerful or sociable. I wasn't.

"Oh, I see," he says as if he were a system scanner diagnosing a virus. Then he is gone and reappears in seconds holding my prescription, a thin glass filled with a bright green drink.

"Thanks," I say and take the glass. I take one sip. It is bitter and strong, sending numbing energy through my circuits.

Turning the barstool to face the mass of dancers, I scan the crowd and spot Sam. _Lovely._ He already seems to have found a new friend. He was chatting (and even laughing) with a handsome, sly, brown haired program.

My eyes narrow, my grip tightens on the glass in anger. Security programs are notorious for getting jealous. Especially specific, complex ones like me.

The glass shatters in my hand. My attention, and everyone else's, is drawn back to the bar. _Great. Smooth move, Tron._

Amadeus moves to clean up the spill of green liquid and broken glass. For once, thankfully, he doesn't say anything. Maybe he does know when to shut up.

"Sorry," I say quietly.

"Don't worry about it," he whispers and as he moves a cloth across the counter, his eyes shift up over my shoulder then back to the mess. I think I know what he's trying to tell me. Reluctantly I turn around.

Sure enough I see Sam approaching. The programs that had been staring turn away awkwardly to avoid any foreseeable conflict.

"Hey, what happened?" Sam says to either me or Amadeus. I look away, ashamed and blushing. Of course Amadeus answers.

"Ol' Rinz here's a tad bit jealous I think."

I don't look Sam in the eye, not yet. I couldn't. It was true.

"Jealous?" Sam looks at me confused, surprised, _flattered_ almost. "Really, Tron? Come on, I didn't do anything wrong." He tries to turn me by the shoulder to face him, and it works, but I still don't look up. My eyes fall on the crowd of smooth, predatory programs, all potential thieves.

He follows my gaze and guesses exactly what I'm thinking. He leans in close enough that I can feel his breath on my skin. "You know if these programs are bothering you we can go somewhere else."

The sugar in his voice is irresistible, especially beneath that suggestive hint of a smile. I can't help but smile myself.

"You're right," I say while making plans for what we could do instead. I have some pretty good ideas if I do say so myself. I stand up and give him _that_ look. "Let's go."

As I walk towards the lift he follows me with his eyes for a moment before following with his feet, but then he races to catch up.

"So where should be go then?" he asks on the lift ride down as he curves a hand around my waist seductively. "Back to the house?"

"No, I'm tired of that place. It's lonely and boring. I told you we were going to see the city…"

"So let's see the city then."

"Alright. I know the perfect place," I say. "It's in the high end of town and has a great view," I tell him as the lift comes to a stop and we step outside.

"Well what is this place exactly?"

"You'll see." I turn around, grin at him and we step towards the street, batons in hand.


	5. 5 Program and User

Of The Users

Tron Legacy

A Tron/Sam fan fiction

5- Program and User

The Glass Palace. The grandest hotel on the grid. Where only the high class programs (and users) could come to reboot their systems, recharge or just shut down for a little while. It rose up from the street in front of us like that for which it was named. Its title was fitting.

We derezz our cycles and helmets retract.

"Tron, what is this?" Sam asks through a smile.

"The Glass Palace hotel," I say as we walk across the street.

"Hotel?" His teeth shine in his smile, reflecting light from the bright surrounding buildings.

I look back in his direction giving that eager "you coming" look. He does. Quickly.

As we walk through the huge, elegant, glass doors, his hand grabs mine and we weave our fingers together.

Our room is on the tenth floor, only about the middle of the building but the view is still astonishing.

I tap my finger, which is programmed with the door code, to the scanner and the door clicks open. I allow Sam to step through first to be dazzled by the amazing view. I follow close behind and shut the door quietly, careful not to disturb the atmosphere.

He steps slowly towards the long window which stretches across the far wall and frames a wonderful panorama of the blue-glowing city. We both pass the light control and leave it untouched. Neither of us says a word.

"It's breathtaking, isn't it?" I say as I step beside him.

He hums in agreement but says nothing more. I see his eyes scanning the luminescent buildings outside but I can tell his thoughts are somewhere else.

"What are you thinking about, Sam?" I subconsciously lean closer.

He doesn't turn to me but he does answer, "You," with a coy smile.

I grin with delight and perhaps anticipation. "Oh? What about me?"

Then, suddenly, unannounced, he grabs my face between his hands and presses his lips to mine in a furious kiss. One of his hands falls to my lower back as we shift closer. The kiss deepens and I fall against him.

His lips release mine. "That pretty much," he says with a smile.

This is going somewhere, I know it. And deep in my system I wonder what would happen between a program and a user.

"Sam," I say, turning my eyes to his and staying close. "You've taught me much about the users. I think you ought to learn something about us programs."

"Like what?" He scans my face up and down, looking for an answer.

"Well there's something programs do when they find they are compatible."

He stays silent and waits for me to act. I take a breath.

My hand gently presses against one of the wide circuits on his chest. Energy pours out of my fingers, and where they come in contact with him, his circuits glow brighter. This was just a test, a cautious approach, to see what would happen. So far, so good. He takes the transfer of energy well. Wonderful.

His chest swells with a sharp intake of breath. I glance up at his face while my hand runs up and down the same circuit, electricity flowing between us.

His eyes that glow brighter now have turned soft, sweet and passionate. His hand comes up to meet mine and holds it where it is while he places the other on my back and pulls me closer. His eyes stare intense and deep into mine.

He doesn't hesitate to kiss me and when he does I kiss him back hard. His hand finds one of the ring shaped circuits on my lower back and we both smile against each other's lips. He traces the ring with his finger and energy flies with the contact.

I gently back him up against the glass wall and press my body against his. He pushes against me with perfect resistance and energy flows in rivers between us. The transfer of energy takes me in a wave of pure electricity.

Sparks, nothing but sparks from my circuits to his, from his lips to mine. I pull away and glance at the bed behind us. He catches on and that's where we find ourselves next with him on his back between me and the sheets.

Our circuits ignite and glow brighter with each touch of blinding, dizzying, electrifying ecstasy. Each kiss brings new, fresh, crackling sparks.

My lips trace the circuits on his chest further, further down then back up again. His breath catches behind a smile. He kisses my lips and holds me with both hands against the circuits on my back.

We breathe heavily together. Our bodies are completely in sync now. He rolls me over onto my back and kisses the T-shaped circuits at the base of my neck. Our energy, our systems, are mixed together as one.

For most of the night we continue like this, glowing with the light of our intertwining systems of program and user.

* * *

><p>When my system wakes up after a long night of rest, the first thing I notice is that I am alone in the bed. I lift myself up off the sheets and look around the room for Sam. I am just able to see over the back of the couch that that is where he is lying.<p>

I roll out of bed and walk over to the small sitting area on the other side of the room where Sam is lying with a book in one hand and a half eaten apple in the other. I did not wonder where he got these things. He is a user.

He sees me approach, and his arm, book in hand, falls over the arm of the couch by his head. A smile adorns his face and sweet eyes invite me.

His long, sprawled out figure takes up the whole couch so I have no choice but to place myself on top, straddling him. Fine with me. I seat myself gently on his abdomen, gazing down at his pleased face with a smile.

"You slept longer than I did," he says. "That's unusual. You were starting to worry me." I could tell he wasn't genuinely worried, just joking.

Then I explain. "That's because what we did last night is called circuit sharing. We mixed energies and programs so sometimes characteristics of your programing could transfer to mine."

"Really?" he says, raising an eyebrow. "That's hot."

I laugh and brush a hand gently across his chest, replying unabashed. "You're hot." I grab the apple from his hand and throw it, out of the way so I am free to kiss him. He drops the book and it tumbles to the floor as he moves both hands to my back. Then he pushes up against me hard and sends us both falling to the floor.

My back hits the ground with him above me. I can't help but laugh at our delightful playfulness.

Perhaps this is something I picked up from him last night but a warmth now radiates from somewhere deep in my system. A completeness; I am whole. To be with this user is what I was created for.

* * *

><p><strong>I do have a short little chapter that I wrote after this but it doesn't really fit with the rest of the piece. I had written it when I was planning on continuing this story further but at this point I don't think it's going to happen so I probably won't add it. So i guess this is the end (most likely) for now. If I do add to this it will only be that short little piece as chapter 6 .<strong>

**Thanks for reading!**


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